


The Body Beautiful

by versaphile



Series: David/Farouk Fics [4]
Category: Legion (TV)
Genre: Based on a fic, Biting, Bodyswap, Breathplay, Bruises, Collars, Dress Up, Dresses, Dressing Room Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hair Brushing, Hair-pulling, High Heels, Kissing, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, Mild D/s, Mirror Sex, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, Scratching, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, doting, mild bondage, non-binary characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versaphile/pseuds/versaphile
Summary: Farouk helps David adapt to his new life (and his borrowed body).Inspired by the Syd/David/Farouk fic Triune by Hexiva and Erisden.





	The Body Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hexiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/gifts), [Erisden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erisden/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Triune](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376680) by [Erisden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erisden/pseuds/Erisden), [Hexiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva). 



> Thanks to mossomness for betaing, and thanks to Hexiva and Erisden for letting me play in their universe.

David stands in the walk-in closet and stares at the racks of clothes.

He probably shouldn't be in here. This is Syd's space, Syd's wardrobe. But David's in Syd's body, so he should really figure out how to dress it. 

Syd obviously cares a lot about her appearance, whatever body she's in. When she's in David's body, like she is now, she dresses it up to suit her tastes, her power. David's body never looked so good as when Syd's in it, in fine, tailored blacks that make her look like the world ruler she is. 

David didn't expect, when he agreed to all of this, that Syd would be so busy ruling the world. But she's happy and that's what matters. He's proud of her, seeing her thrive. He still feels-- Uncertain about-- The morality of all this, but--

'Morality,' Dvd snickers. 'Please. Power is the only thing that matters, and we're gods. We're where we belong, on top.'

David accepts Dvd's words and brushes his hand along the hanging clothing. His fingers stop on a silk dress and he pulls it out. Everything here is Syd's colors: black, red, orange, the occasional touch of gold. Dominant, powerful. David looks in the mirror and holds the dress against himself. Syd's reflection looks back at him, but-- Not Syd. He doesn't hold himself like her, doesn't exude her sense of self. 

'Still looks good,' Divad says. 'Maybe she'll like it on us. Try it on.'

"Yes, try it on," Farouk agrees.

David turns, startled, pulling the dress against himself in reflexive defense. He forces himself to relax. "You're back." Farouk left to deal with-- Some ruling-the-world stuff.

"I could not bear to stay away for long," Farouk says, and rakes David with his eyes. "Now now. Don't be shy."

David blushes even as he forces himself to set the dress aside. He's still wearing Syd's nightclothes under her sheer robe. Syd likes to wear lacy lingerie, but it feels very strange on him.

It's not as though Farouk hasn't seen everything he's wearing, or everything underneath it. It's not as thought Farouk hasn't--

David blushes further and tries to change the subject. "I'm just-- Looking for something to wear." He tugs the robe closed, even though it barely hides anything. Is Syd an exhibitionist? 

"Oh yes," Farouk purrs, lost in some happy reminiscence. "Our Syd is full of surprises. I'm sure she'll show you that one when she's ready."

David swallows. Being Syd and Farouk's is-- It can be very intense.

"You're not objecting, are you?" Farouk asks, mildly concerned.

"Of course not," David insists. "I agreed to stay. I want this. I'm just-- It's an-- Adjustment."

It's been a lot to adjust to. Ruling the world instead of trying to save it. Living in luxury instead of on the run. Not being in his own body half the time, and-- Being in a relationship that's-- Nothing like he ever expected.

He looks at Farouk, and then looks away. He stares at the rows of fancy shoes. Should he wear heels? Syd wears heels. Should he wear makeup? Syd wears makeup, even when she's in his body. 

Farouk steps close, touches him. A steady hand on David's shoulder, and then caressing down to his back, to hold his waist. Farouk's body against his, warm and clothed and so much bigger than him when David is like this. He doesn't know it if makes him feel vulnerable or-- Safe.

"Both, _joon-am_ ," Farouk murmurs. "Always both."

David turns in Farouk's arms and holds him back, needing him even as something in David recoils. This was the man who lived inside him and tortured him, who took Syd away from him. He can't make himself forget those things, no matter how much he wants to. 

'He didn't take Syd,' Divad reminds him. 'You're just being jealous.'

"Maybe I am," David mutters.

Farouk chuckles, and David feels the vibration of his laugh. "You have nothing to be jealous of, my dear. All those years, we were waiting for you."

"And now you have me," David says.

Farouk brushes his fingers through David's hair. "We do. You are our beautiful boy."

David can't help but shiver. 

"Would you like me to help you be beautiful for us?" Farouk asks.

"Please," David asks, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, with need. 

"Good," Farouk says, giving him a warm, doting smile. "Very good." He leans down and kisses David, slow and easy, savoring him. David clings to Farouk as he kisses back, as Farouk caresses him through Syd's thin clothing.

David's body throbs between his legs. Syd fucked him last night, claiming and relentless, and he's still tender down there and inside. Syd loves fucking him so much, and he's so sensitive in her body. She makes him scream, she leaves scratches and bites and bruises.

Farouk admires her marks now, pressing into them so David gasps, and Farouk swallows his gasps.

"Our Syd is-- Territorial," Farouk says at last. "She spent many years waiting to reclaim you. You must forgive her roughness."

"It's okay," David says, softly.

"Ah, you like it," Farouk says, knowing. "You love displaying her marks? Letting everyone know who you belong to?"

David feels like he'll never stop blushing. 

"So shy, my little mouse," Farouk coos. " _Moosh-am_."

Farouk and his pet names. "Just help me find something to wear," David pouts. He forces himself to pull away from Farouk's embrace, his warmth, his-- Love. David's stomach flutters, and he stares at the dresses again.

"I know the problem," Farouk decides. "These are her clothes, not yours."

"I don't have anything that will fit," David gestures at himself.

"Then we shall get something that does," Farouk says. "Come."

"Come where?" David asks, suspicious.

"You are not the only one who has spent time in Syd's body," Farouk says. 

Farouk offers his hand and David takes it, as Farouk's words sink in. Of course he's seen Farouk in Syd's body, and Syd in Farouk's, but he hadn't-- 

Farouk leads David to his own wardrobe, and like Syd's it's a room-sized closet. There's Farouk's normal clothes, mostly fine suits, but as they walk further back--

There's Syd-sized clothes. There's dresses, heels, lingerie--

Of course. They've been swapping bodies for years. Of course they have-- But it's still a shock. Farouk is so-- 

"I am a survivor," Farouk reminds him. "To survive requires adaptation and a flexible mind. I too wish to be beautiful for her, when I am her, and handsome when I am this." He gestures to himself. "And sometimes the reverse. You must open yourself up to experience."

All that leaves David a little dizzy, but he tries to focus. He looks at Farouk's female clothes. They're the same cut as Syd's, of course, but the styles are different, the colors. Still a lot of black and red, but also deep purples and blues. Everything is understated but rich, fit for royalty. Which of course they are.

David is drawn to one dress in particular, night-sky blue with gold filigree and small crystals woven through it, stars and abstract constellations. He takes it out and sees that it's slightly military in style, with a tight halter that looks--

"Ah, a keen eye," Farouk approves. "This will suit you. Undress."

David swallows. Under Farouk's gaze, he lets the sheer robe fall around his feet. His fingers tremble as he pushes down his shoulder straps and lets his chemise fall, too. He's just wearing the silk and lace panties now. He reaches for them but Farouk stops him.

"Not yet," Farouk says. "Now stand in front of the mirror."

David walks up to the full-length mirror and stands before it. He sees Syd's marks, some older and some fresh. His eyes pause on his bare neck, on the bruises Syd left there, almost-- Collaring him again. But he hasn't worn the collar since he said yes, since he agreed to be theirs.

He touches his neck and remembers older bruises. 

"Raise your arms," Farouk commands, and David obeys. 

Dark silk slips over him, capturing him for a long breath, and then the dress is on him but loose. David lowers his arms and watches the mirror as Farouk adjusts the dress, adjusts David inside the dress. He reaches around and lifts David's breasts to seat them in the halter, only toying briefly with David's nipples. His hands move with experience, and David thinks about all the times Farouk must have helped Syd with her dress, and the times she helped Farouk with his.

"This will be tight," Farouk warns. "But that is why you liked it."

It's not a question. The halter pulls tight around him, shallowing his breath, leaving him a little lightheaded. He lets it happen, keeps watching as Farouk pulls him into shape.

"Did you wear this?" David asks, when he finally remembers how to speak.

"Of course," Farouk says. "But when I chose it-- I thought of you. I thought you would like me in it, and perhaps-- That you would wear it. And now here we are."

David nods distantly. To think that-- Farouk was longing for him. That he missed him, that he-- Wanted them to share this.

"It's beautiful," David breathes.

"You are," Farouk agrees. "But we must put the finishing touches, yes?"

"Yes," David breathes.

Farouk caresses his cheek, kisses the bruises on his neck. Then he steps away, and returns. "Matching heels, to start." 

Farouk kneels down and takes each of David's bare feet in turn, slipping them into the heels. David stands unsteadily and Farouk rises and takes his arm.

"Do not struggle," Farouk advises. "This body knows how to stand, to walk. Surrender yourself to this body."

"I'm trying," David protests, but he still feels wobbly.

"It will take time," Farouk allows. "If you feel you may fall, hold me."

David pouts at that, but reaches out. He feels the tension the heels put on his feet, his legs, his stomach and back. He feels the tightness of the halter around his waist and ribs. He feels-- Bound.

"Yes," Farouk agrees, pleased. "That was the idea. Now be still."

David holds as still as he can as Farouk steps away, then back. This time he returns with a hairbrush. He brushes out David's long hair, smoothing out the knots from sleep. David is lulled by the steady strokes, but if he relaxes too much he wobbles. He grips Farouk to steady himself, until Farouk steps away again.

Farouk returns with a tray of makeup and hair products. David stands, his muscles aching, as Farouk patiently styles his hair, dots it with jeweled pins. And then there's the makeup, carefully applied in layers, a tiny brush against his closed eyes, another painting his lips. And then earrings, heavy and dangling.

"There," Farouk declares, and steps aside.

David stares at himself. He's--

"Beautiful," Farouk finishes for him.

David takes a trembling step forward and almost falls. Farouk catches him, pulls him up. 

"Shall I take you to her?" Farouk asks. "Shall we give you to her?"

"No," David gasps, not even sure why he says it, but then-- He looks at Farouk.

"Ah," Farouk gasps, genuinely touched. "For me?"

David nods. Swallows. "For you," he says, forcing out the words. It feels right. Farouk chose the dress, made it for him. Farouk made him this-- Breathtaking vision that barely feels like David at all. He wants Farouk to have it, to have _him_.

"Then I accept," Farouk says, solemnly. "But first-- I have a gift for you."

"Isn't-- All this--" David starts, protesting.

Farouk pulls a box from-- Thin air. He holds it out. David suddenly thinks of the compass he gave Syd, to always be able to find him.

He opens the box. It's his collar, the one--

"Not the same," Farouk corrects. "This one is merely decorative. But it is-- Special."

"How?" David asks, as he stares at the jeweled pomegranate.

"It is not worn on the body," Farouk explains. "It is worn on the soul. It will travel with you, no matter what body you are in. So you will always know you are ours."

David thinks of that, of everyone seeing it. Everyone knowing who he belongs to. That he's theirs, that he's-- 

"Yes," he breathes. "Will you?"

"Yes," Farouk breathes, his eyes suddenly burning with desire. He stands David up again, gives him a long, admiring look. And then he takes the collar and brings it up to David's neck. He pulls it tight around David's neck, almost cutting off what's left of his breathing, but then eases.

It locks in place with a metallic click, and David feels it become-- Part of him. Part of his soul. _They claimed his soul_.

He wobbles again and Farouk catches him. Farouk kisses the collar, kisses his throat, and then turns David to face the mirror. David stares at his reflection, stares and stares as Farouk caresses him and kisses him and presses into his bruises.

"Amahl," David moans.

" _Nāzanin-am_ ," Farouk moans. "Shall I take you here?"

" _Please_ ," David begs.

"Against the mirror," Farouk commands, and David stumbles forward, almost falls against it. He leans against the mirror, seeing himself, his arousal, his desperation. His perfect makeup is already smudging. He wants Farouk to wreck him, to destroy everything he created.

"I created you," Farouk reminds him.

"Then destroy me," David begs.

Farouk grins. He opens his trousers, takes out his cock. It looks painfully full, and David wants it inside him. He wants Farouk to break him the way Syd did last night. He wants to be marked inside and out.

Farouk's delicate touch becomes rough and cruel. He devours David, pawing at his breasts, biting at his neck and bare shoulders. He pulls the dress tighter so David can barely breathe, so he's dizzy and gasping against the cool glass of the mirror. And then Farouk rips the skirt of the dress open in the back, all the way up to the halter, and rips off the panties. David's soaking wet, throbbing as Farouk's thick fingers reach inside him and make him whine and keen.

"You are ours," Farouk says, sharply. "You are _mine_."

" _Yours,_ " David gasps, answering both.

Farouk growls and grabs David's hips and thrusts inside him. David cries out, overcome, pressed against the mirror by Farouk's thrusts. Farouk batters him open, rips at the dress until it's tatters and David is half naked, breasts hanging out and swaying, makeup ruined. Farouk pulls his head back and rips out the jewel pins and bites at his neck and kisses it and bites at it, and David feels _consumed._

"Yes!" David cries, lost. 

Farouk snarls, rips apart the last tatters of the dress, and drives into David with all his strength, crushing him against the mirror as he pours inside him. David feels the heat of Farouk's cock and his come, searing him like a brand, and welcomes it, presses back against it, seeking everything Farouk will give him. Farouk ruts against him, still hard, and reaches down and rubs David's clit, and David comes, sobbing, gasping, his body grasping for Farouk. 

The world greys at the edges and David falls. Farouk catches him and lowers them both to the floor. They lie on the rug, gasping. David feels like he's been turned inside out. He looks over to see the tattered remains of the dress and sees-- The remain are gone. The dress is hanging on the mirror, good as new. Whole, healed.

Farouk holds him close, gentle again, nuzzling and loving. David holds him back, loves him back. Loves his destruction.

"Now," Farouk soothes, as he brushes back David's messy hair. "Now you are perfect."


End file.
